


Coexistence

by ToxicBabes



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Airports, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Greece, M/M, Male Homosexuality, One Shot, Original Character (Flores' Husband)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicBabes/pseuds/ToxicBabes
Summary: After taking the job offer, Santiago realises Rainbow doesn't just come with new opportunities but new friends too.
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov, Santiago "Flores" Lucero/His Husband
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Coexistence

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a mixture of exploring the character of Flores and also an outsider perspective on Kapkan and Glaz's relationship. I've made up the backstory of Flores' husband as there is not much detail about him in the lore other than the fact that he is supportive of what Flores does. I think Flores' character definitely is interesting and I really adore the amount of parallels I can find in his background with my interpretation of Kapkan and Glaz's relationship, and Glaz himself as a character. 
> 
> As for the background of Flores' husband, I've decided to go with the name Juan. He's an investigative journalist who may have looked into Flores' heists in LA. I reckon their relationship begins whenever Flores started up his food-truck business which is how they met. After some mutual interest they begin dating and subsequently Flores reveals more of his past to him out of trust and respect. Again, this is all made up, but it is what I would feel is fitting to Flores' character as he is described to be extremely devoted to his husband.
> 
> I'm not sure if I will write a full piece expanding on his friendship with Glaz, though I envision that Flores and Glaz come to learn that they have some valuable wisdom and viewpoints to exchange.

The flight from America to England gave Santiago enough time to consolidate his thoughts and sort out any worries which had been troubling him. This job offer was a significant step up from what he was used to doing and he had his own worries about his capabilities, where his strengths laid amongst a vast team of people from all specialties. Although he quelled his anxious mind by telling himself he’d have to arrive in the country first and see for himself what Team Rainbow was like before fretting over hypothetical situations. 

Following two layovers and a couple hours of enduring a stiff back, hearing the pilot announce their descent was like a dream come true. The confusion of entering a new time zone helped add to the surrealness of the situation alongside the exhaustion of travel. Santiago stepped into the rainy morning of England with his coat bundled around him, weariness heavy under his eyes.

The concept of time had warped over those flights. Had he still been curled up in bed, it would be four in the morning, yet here he stood at the baggage reclaim with the giant clock striking twelve. He didn’t dare admit it to himself in fear of giving into his homesickness, but a part of him yearned for his own bed again. More so, he missed holding someone else in his arms, waking up in a tangled mess under the covers. He missed Juan.

During the layover in New York, they spoke on the phone for a while and Santiago had sent him a text during the brief stop in Paris. It had been eight hours since then with no response which didn’t surprise him and if anything, he was relieved to not see a dozen notifications. He liked keeping in touch, but knowing Juan wasn’t staying awake into the hours of the morning brought him a sense of comfort. Hell, they had gone weeks without properly talking before. A quick text to know he was sleeping well, eating well, feeling well- it was all Santiago needed.

At the arrivals gate, there was a sea of faces looking eagerly. He scanned the row of people holding placards with surnames on it, but the second he locked onto a familiar redhead, he didn’t notice Eliza was holding a card with ‘Flores’ written on it. His codename, something he found to be a little gimmicky at first, but it grew on him.

While it was also good to see an old friend again, nothing had given Santiago greater joy in the past days than Eliza handing him a cup of coffee. It was a minor gesture, but something that gave him immense relief. In the car journey, she asked him how the flight was, how Juan was doing, if they missed each other. Santiago assured her everything was fine as he gazed out the window, watching the cars pass them on the busy motorway, the raindrops sliding down the glass.

“So the workshop got their hands on the prototype of your drone,” Eliza mentioned, a hand adjusting the heating to turn it up a little. “They love it. Our R&D director, I’ve told you about her, right? Álvarez and Specialist Kessikbayev have offered to help improve it.”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t redesign it from the ground up,” Santiago quipped and gave a humble laugh. “They love it?”

Eliza made a vague hand gesture and shook off her fond smile, disregarding the matter to be too silly for her serious nature. “The guys love explosions,” she explained. “And don’t put yourself down, Santiago. One of our specialists- Emmanuelle Pichon- she looked into your blueprints. She’s impressed with it. Many people are.” 

It was hard to believe, though Santiago forced himself to take the compliment. “Well I suppose it’s always nice to have a second opinion, or a third, or a fourth,” he said, finding triumph in being able to make her laugh. “So… this weather. Is it always like this?”

Mild, grey, wet. The forecast said it would be sunny tomorrow, but seeing this made him doubt its credibility. The car came to a pause at a red light and the wipers gave a squeak with every swipe across the windscreen. 

“Sort of. Sometimes it’s better, but it’s rare it’ll come close to what you get in California,” Eliza said, unbothered by the dreariness of the sky. “Good thing is that it’ll give you something to talk about.”

For the rest of the journey, she gave him more information on what to expect, whether if it was from his upcoming meetings with Harry or when he would be released into a fully-armed workshop with every resource imaginable at his disposal. It was exciting yet frightening, though Santiago had tamed and mastered his fear long ago.

The week ahead of him kept him busy at all times. During his sessions with Harry, they uncovered more than he expected and he began to understand what Harry meant when he brought up having to get over the mental hill of talking about personal matters with one’s boss. Santiago was welcome to surrender some of this information freely, other times it would slip from him. Regardless, he knew he was in good hands. Harry kept every audio transcription encrypted, nothing was leaving their meetings.

Revealing his personal life wasn’t something he was acquainted to, seeing as he spent a majority of his career working alone or detached from such a socially connected group. Though the more he spoke with the people here, he realised it wasn’t a monumental mistake when he let it slip to Tori that he had a husband. At first he expected for it to make things awkward, yet the reaction he gained was not unusual whatsoever, but an invitation to continue speaking about the matters he was passionate about. 

In due time, he found his place in Rainbow. His colleagues in the workshop were helpful and it was refreshing to be exposed to so many different perspectives. For now, he worked alongside Elena and Shuhrat, and that experience alone was enough to erase any thought of regret about joining Rainbow.

While quiet and not much of a conversationalist, Shuhrat was pleasant to work with. The advantage of being new around these parts was that Santiago could spend days getting to know everyone, talking solely about their professional backgrounds to fill any silences. For many people, it was easiest to talk about their job. When it came to making adjustments to the drone, what Santiago didn’t expect was Shuhrat’s inquiries into his gadget, the questions as to _how_ and _why_ he made things a certain way. Santiago awaited the suggestions of how things could be improved, yet after every answer, Shuhrat would nod and think about it. If this meant that there were no improvements needed or not, Santiago found his confidence growing. The worry that he was pale in comparison to his peers no longer struck him so intensely.

One goal they set themselves towards was modifying the drone to be able to mount itself on vertical surfaces. They made several prototypes, trialed them in the test chambers and after numerous evaluations, Shuhrat suggested a fast-acting adhesive for the Ratero. 

On the day they were sure the design was finalised and the prototype was ready, there was an ample crowd gathered at the blast shield of the test chamber to watch the drone in action. They had a dry wall set up, a test dummy with ballistic armour equipped and at a safe distance, Santiago deployed his gadget. The adjustments improved the handling and the speed was enough to catch anyone by surprise. 

Now for the long awaited test. They tried multiple different adhesives in various quantities, aiming for something consistent while keeping the costs of production down. The mounting was successful and while Santiago couldn’t hear it, he saw the celebration behind the blast screen, the clapping and mellow celebration from his colleagues when the drone detonated and sent the dummy flying back. 

From what he observed during his time here, the research and development department was always supportive of all kinds of innovation. Help was only a moment away and no one was ever free from a little helpful critique. He was grateful to have someone like Shuhrat to exchange ideas with, even if finding time to discuss was scarce with the amount of work to be done. When Santiago exited the test chambers, he spotted Shuhrat speaking to someone.

Their eyes met and Shuhrat beckoned him to come over.

“Santiago, this is Maxim Basuda,” he introduced them and Santiago regarded the man, taking in his rugged features. The handshake was firm, though one thing he noted was that the two Russian men he met so far were not the kind to be warm and smiling. “This is Santiago Lucero- we had training a few days ago, remember?”

Maxim gave a nonchalant shrug as he trawled through his memories, that one explosion that left Adriano with a nasty concussion. “Mmh, I’m sure Martello remembers,” he recalled with a snort then offered Santiago a polite smile, though it looked more like he was pressing his thin lips into a line. “It’s nice to finally meet you. That drone of yours is quite impressive.”

As for Santiago, he finally connected the dots as to which gadget belonged to Maxim. “Thank you- you know, one thing I’ve noticed so far is that you Russians love making lethal gadgets. Your trap gave me a nasty bruise.” 

With comedic timing, Maxim and Shuhrat had glanced at one another with raised brows, then Maxim laughed it off. 

“Good thing it was just training then,” he joked. “You wouldn’t want to see what the real thing does to people.”

The conversation remained on the topic of Maxim’s traps for a while longer before it moved on to their fellow compatriots and Shuhrat was more than enthusiastic to describe Alexsandr’s Shumikha launcher, the grand story of how it came into fruition. It was always interesting to hear more about the people he was going to work with and Santiago had been too absorbed by the tales to realise his phone was missing, left on the workbench behind him.

A hand gently tapped his shoulder. 

“Lucero, a call for you,” Maxim interrupted their conversation, handing the mobile over. On the illuminated phone screen, there was the contact image and Santiago immediately recognised it to be Juan.

It was a photo of them on their honeymoon, a nondescript image aside from the way Juan was pressing a kiss against his cheek. Their eyes met for a moment then Santiago accepted the phone with a murmur of gratitude. He excused himself to take the call, leaving to step out for some quietness. 

The phone calls from Juan were always the peak of Santiago’s days. It never failed to put a smile on his face and while it took some time, talking to him eased the worrying thought that Maxim could have seen the image. Santiago barely knew the guy, but he tried to trust that in a squad like Rainbow, people had the respect and maturity to avoid any needless gossip and to set aside any prejudices. Speaking to Juan only helped to reassure him of any further anxieties because Santiago cared less about unsavoury opinions. He was lucky enough to be married to the man he loved the most. What other people thought about their relationship was irrelevant. 

It was hard to tell if it was happening or if Santiago was more conscious of it, but he did keep an eye out for any changes in behaviour amongst his colleagues. Only a few of them knew about his marriage and no doubt were they also aware of how cautious he was with this information. With Maxim Basuda, Santiago didn’t parse much change. They remained on polite terms, had a chat down at the pub with the other guys over a match of football, nothing raised any suspicions and Santiago was relieved for that.

The weeks slipped by like a passing breeze, nights spent awake and telling Juan about his day, looking up apartments to rent because the provided dormitory was a bit too claustrophobic. Just when Santiago was beginning to feel settled in England, he received an assignment. A training session in Greece, taking place at renovated headquarters for Rainbow. 

He overheard people talking about this place before, though he never expected to be sent there so soon. Everyday was a new experience and today he stood scanning down the information board of all the flights while busy passengers filtered around the giant group of the Rainbow operatives stranded in the departure lounge.

For the past days, the weather hadn’t been the best with word of a storm cropping up on the daily forecast. It didn’t come as a surprise when the statuses of the flights lit up red with delays upon delays. A chorus of complaining roused amongst his fellow colleagues and many of them sauntered off to browse the duty-free shops or find somewhere to purchase some overpriced coffee.

The sun was barely creeping up over the horizon at this time and a majority of the people on this assignment would have been asleep. Some coffee helped alleviate disgruntled expressions, but the delays only made them all the more fed up. If anything, they just wanted to get crammed onto the plane so they could fall asleep on the stiff seats for a couple more hours. 

In fact, it was early enough for Juan to still be awake. They exchanged some texts before Santiago left him alone or rather, he told Juan to get some food before ten o’clock crept up and he would be too tired from working to bother with dinner. It was always how it was between them, Santiago leaving dinner covered with some cellophane so it wouldn’t dry up, then in the late evening, Juan would return from the office and heat it up in the microwave. 

Ever since joining Rainbow, Santiago couldn’t shake off the thought that he missed cooking for people. Harry suggested making some Argentinian dishes and that had briefly sated this urge. Though now, being alone in a dorm, there was little motivation to make anything fancy for himself outside of comfort food. Perhaps once he could find an apartment to rent, the idea of pampering himself a little more would come.

On the topic of renting an apartment, that was further down the list of things to do. For now, Santiago secured himself an Americano and took a seat as he waited for time to pass. He shifted his gaze to the large windows to watch the planes take off, this idleness making his mind latch onto anything that provided the mildest of stimulation. By the windows, he spotted Maxim speaking to someone. 

Santiago had heard of the name Timur Glazkov a handful of times, yet they had never met before. He recalled comments about how his style was vaguely similar to Timur’s iconic look, though upon looking at the photos, the only glaring similarities were their hats. It still gave Santiago a good laugh and he was more than intrigued by the fashion choice of a T-shirt with dress trousers.

After watching the two of them for some time, he came to realise that Maxim and Timur were often seen together. They must live together too, seeing as they arrived and left work in the same car, seemed to borrow each other’s t-shirts from time to time. It occurred often enough for Santiago to notice it and now he continued to observe them from a distance. 

They were having a conversation and looking over the runway. Timur wore an attentive expression as he listened and ate his pastry. Then at some point, he offered Maxim a bite to which the older man had stopped talking for a moment, refused it with a shake of his head then continued talking. There was a distinct fondness on their faces and from knowing Maxim in this brief amount of time, Santiago sensed he was not the kind of guy to smile so warmly out of politeness. It didn’t take much to infer those two were good friends.

Timur touched a hand to Maxim’s arm, a light squeeze against his firm bicep then he slipped off his own fleece and gave it to him. At first Maxim did not accept it right away, but after some insistence, he put on the jacket. 

Choosing not to question it too much, Santiago looked elsewhere before he would be caught staring at them. Though he did admit to himself that their closeness was a little unusual to what he was used to seeing. He didn’t want to jump to assumptions, but if his suspicions were true then he wouldn’t be surprised. 

Within time, they were due to get ready to board their flight. A small handful of people came back late from the smoke rooms stinking of tobacco, their faces sheepish when Mike chastised them for their lack of punctuality. This time around, they didn’t fuss around with swapping seats to sit with close mates, everyone filed onto the economy section and squeezed into the tight rows of seats. Shoulders bumped, arms fought for the elbow rest and their neighbours in front of them tried their best to recline their chair without causing some form of workplace conflict. 

Santiago counted the rows until he found his seat at the end of a three-man row. He spotted Maxim closest to the window, then next to him was Timur. They gave each other a polite smile.

“Santiago, right? We haven’t met,” Timur was first to speak and he extended a hand. Santiago grasped it firmly and shook it. “Timur Glazkov.”

Brown hair peeked out from under a woolen beanie and a dark, scruffy stubble cradled Timur’s broad jawline. He mustn’t have had enough time in the morning to trim it. A t-shirt clung to his muscled arms, hairy forearms exposed where he had forfeited his fleece to his friend. Unlike Maxim, Timur only smelled vaguely of smoke. 

Over the ache in their ears from the change in air pressure, they made small talk about their backgrounds. By now, Santiago could recite his past before Rainbow like a script in his head, but if it meant he could hear about other people then it was worth it. Prior to speaking to Timur, he hadn’t heard of Vladivostok before.

“It is quite a shift to go from art to joining the military,” Santiago pointed out with a chuckle. They paused at some sudden turbulence, exchanging uneasy smiles that humoured the intrusive thought of the aircraft coming down in the storm. “But it’s quite nice to hear your father was supportive of you and your art. Most of the time you hear about fathers wanting their sons to become engineers or doctors, lawyers, you get it.”

Humming under his breath, Timur seemed to be in deep thought. “Yeah. When I was much younger, he used to complain to my mother all the time that I would spend too much drawing, not as much time playing football. But then over time, it became just the two of us and he- I don’t know… there was a very dramatic change in him, like he stopped trying to change who I was,” he trailed off to gather his thoughts, struck by a sudden awareness of what he just revealed about his life. “He became a lot more understanding, I mean.”

There was a warm feeling in Santiago’s chest at the thought of it, accompanied by a familiar sympathy. He understood what it was like to only have one parent, though the idea of a father was foreign to him. Regardless, he appreciated the odd parallels between them. 

“Maybe he realised that you are your own person after all,” Santiago offered. “For me, my mother was _horrified_ when she found out what I did, what I was doing. I don’t know if she ever wanted me to join the military, but that was the path I chose. Parents can be weird like that.” 

It was in that moment they both came to a mutual realisation that they could talk about anything for hours on end if prompted. Neither of them were the kind to be too closely guarded with their personal lives. Deep within, there were matters that they were passionate about and it took only one question to spark it. 

Timur glanced eagerly towards him, appearing to be toying with whatever matter was on his mind. “I got us sidetracked by talking about myself,” he confessed with a chuckle. “I meant to ask if you had any hobbies, like art and whatnot. I don’t know, something tells me you’d be interested in things other than work.”

Santiago had to think about it. “Ah, well… I’m afraid you might be wrong,” he began then paused for a moment. “Actually, my friend has been trying to get me into photography for the longest time. So if that counts as a hobby, then that’s really it.”

In this field, time for hobbies was rare to come by and most people joked that their job was their hobby. For a majority of his life, Santiago had invested all his time into his work, late evenings spent working on perfecting his drone to get him out of any possible situation. It wasn’t until he had met Juan that he came to realise he didn’t have much of a life of his own outside of that. Since his mother passed, working to give back to others was the only thing Santiago knew.

It wasn’t easy to find a balance, especially with how much Juan was also the kind of person to be wholly devoted to his job. Yet the act of loving another person, while it did not change how much either of them worked, had given Santiago a different kind of happiness in his life. At some point he had forgotten the simple pleasures of personal relationships that finding someone like Juan had revived part of himself. To love, be loved, either or, Santiago appreciated him with all his heart and there wasn’t a passing day where he wouldn’t set aside the time to catch up with one another.

Photography had always been more of Juan’s forte than it was Santiago’s, but over the years he found some fun in being able to snap a picture of something interesting, being able to have an archive of all the things he liked. Photos of Juan, their pet dog, the streets of Los Angeles. Sometimes it was the collection of images that brought him satisfaction, looking back at everything and witnessing the kaleidoscope of colours before him.

Santiago recalled one of the conversations they had before he had to leave for his flight. It was a joke about how now he had more reason to use the camera he received for Christmas, seeing as all these assignments would bring him to places he had never been to before.

And with his first assignment, Greece greeted him with a warm breeze when they disembarked the plane. It was shy of the afternoon and the others appeared to be a little more well-rested than they were before they got their nap. There were travel arrangements in place to take them to the facilities they would be staying at. From listening to Timur, Santiago sensed the dorms weren’t as spacious as the accommodation provided in England. 

There were lists drawn up of room assignments and whoever did them didn’t do a good enough job, judging by the surprised looks exchanged amongst them as they glanced around for their roommate with an expression of unfamiliarity. To Santiago’s luck, he got Timur and so he reckoned sharing a room wouldn’t be too tough. 

Their first day was spent with an afternoon conference detailing any future assignments, mostly training with other counterterrorism units around the world. With that concluding by three o’clock, the rest of the day was free to do as they wished. They settled down in their rooms, unpacked, then set out to explore the local areas as a small group. 

Following dinner, Santiago returned to his room early to unwind. The warmth and sunshine of Greece reminded him vaguely of home, but this time he managed to quell any longing stirring in his chest. There would come a time when he could fly back to America and Juan was also looking into opportunities to travel to the UK for his work. It wasn’t ideal being apart for so long, but they managed it better than they expected to. 

And as always, there was no better sleep aid than closing the night with a long phone call to Juan.

* * *

The simulations were scheduled for several days time and in the meanwhile, they carried out basic drills and exercises to acclimate themselves to the weather. Aside from the pleasantness of having little rain in the summer, there were a number of people who clearly weren’t used to the sun. Rosy cheeks, foreheads glistening and kissed golden at the temples, t-shirts drenched with sweat.

Santiago finished his morning jog by the time he spotted Timur and Maxim taking a rest on the benches. They shared the same bottle of water, looking withered despite it only being the morning. There was the distinct sheen of sunscreen on Timur’s arms and his cheeks were flushed, unlike his usual pale self. Their dorm smelt of aloe the previous evening.

They were speaking to one another and Santiago was too far to hear anything, his mind drifting from the small talk occurring in his own circle. Those two were a peculiar pair. He mentioned it to Juan several times to ask for an outsider opinion regarding his two colleagues and it was probable that there was something romantic occurring between them. Now that Santiago was seeing with his own eyes, he was sure of it. Maxim, reaching a hand to smooth out some sun cream on Timur’s face, the action so nonchalant it only showed their closeness.

 _Just friends,_ Santiago humoured himself, because damn those two were almost as romantic as he was with Juan. 

Luckily they were together so often that the dorm was empty in their free hours. Santiago appreciated the peace and quiet, the opportunity to call Juan while lazing in bed. It wasn’t that he minded Timur’s presence, in fact he liked the guy a lot and thought he was interesting, so in all, this was another bonus. 

“Hey, it’s getting late. My roommate is back,” Santiago told Juan when he heard the sound of laughter and quick-spoken Russian growing louder. As usual, they spoke in Spanish to one another and as far as he knew, none of his Russian colleagues were fluent in Spanish. There was little concern for eavesdropping. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow? Goodnight- wait, hey, I love you. Alright, text me.”

The door was ajar, Timur half standing in the doorway and his back turned. He spoke in a hushed tone, in a very insistent manner as if to placate Maxim who had his hands up, indicating he was yielding to whatever they were bickering about. Not wishing to hear it any longer, Timur dismissed him with a wave of his hand and shooed him away in jest.

He closed the door behind him with an absent smile on his face before he noticed Santiago’s curious look.

“His roommate snores and he wants to swap rooms,” Timur told him as he stepped out of his shoes. “But he does too and this is my break from all of it.” 

Because somehow any other day where they weren’t on an assignment _wasn’t_ a break from Maxim’s snoring. It was like a bell chiming in Santiago’s head when these minor details began to connect the dots some more. In his peripheral vision he could see Timur slipping off his jacket. 

“I suppose he’s getting a taste of his own medicine,” Santiago joked, absently fidgeting with the ring hanging from the chain around his neck. Usually he preferred to wear it on his finger, but given how they were doing physical activity everyday, he could bear the absence for now. Still, not being able to feel the metal band around his fingers often gave him the odd worry that he had lost it. Clutching it in his hand was a comforting act. 

Timur looked at him in the mirror as he put on some aloe gel onto his skin and rubbed it into his shoulders where he was red and almost peeling. “You call home every night, right?” He noted. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but you always sound so happy. I feel bad when I have to disturb you.”

It was an indirect question about the ring perhaps. Santiago hummed an affirmative. “Yeah, my partner. We’re basically in a long distance relationship now because of this job so I try my best to keep in touch,” he said. “But we’re sort of used to it, he-“ there was a pause for a moment at the slip up and he realised he was much too comfortable speaking to Timur at this point. “ _He_ travels a fair amount for his work, but now it’s all different and much longer.”

“Must be rough,” Timur said, not looking too shocked about the newfound information and his reaction was relieving to see. “I’ve never been good at that sort of stuff. And with here, we don’t get a lot of vacation so it’s good you’re not getting thrown into the deep end at least.”

“Oh, this did throw me into the deep end.” Santiago laughed. “I’m not used to being the one going away. I was actually wanting to stay in America, but he told me I should take the job.” 

Since they were going to be chatting a little longer, Timur didn’t climb the squeaky frame to get to his top bunk. Instead, he took a seat at the edge of Santiago’s bed when the older man motioned for him to sit down.

“So are you two actually married?” Timur asked and nodded at the ring. 

“Five years, coming up to six in a month,” Santiago said and managed to surprise himself with the answer. Time was passing by faster than he could comprehend. It didn’t feel like long ago he had taken Juan’s order at the food truck. “But we’ve known each other for maybe ten years.”

Timur’s expression lit up, his brows raising. “Ten years is a lot,” he mused.

“You’re still young,” Santiago told him in a lighthearted tone. “Eventually ten years is basically nothing.” 

While he did not mention it, compatibility had always played an important role in how they got so far. They fell in rhythm with one another, growing together in this strange walk of life. Santiago wouldn’t know if there existed another person that would respect his aspirations on the same level that Juan did. In fact, he pushed for Santiago to pursue his dreams of helping other people. 

Team Rainbow would be the perfect opportunity to share his expertise and innovation to make the world safer. It wasn’t the same field of work that Santiago was used to, but he quickly adapted to it. 

When they set off to do their simulations, he was beginning to gain a better understanding of unit cohesion. Efficiency was key in these simulations, each round lasting only minutes to get a bomb defused. These competitions pitted the best against the best in hopes that this would prepare them for the most skilled opponents in the future. 

It was far easier than he expected, though having a coordinated team and a focused leader meant all he had to do was play his part. His drones made quick work of any defender gadgets, got walls open, created lines of sight for Timur. Team Rainbow were known for their ability to constantly adapt, though it was clear the defenders were unprepared for the Ratero.

With information of Maxim holding an anchor point, Santiago deployed his drone and flushed him out. There was the crack of Timur’s rifle, a singular shot then the announcement of an elimination. Their team thundered upon the bomb site and the day’s session of simulations were over with more victories in their laps, only a couple losses. 

To celebrate such a turbulent day, they went into the local area in the late afternoon to do some sightseeing and find somewhere for dinner. Santiago brought his camera with him and he snapped some photographs of the monuments and the architecture. The streets were lined with greenery, houses painted with cream coloured paint or something pleasant and pastel. 

The colours were reminiscent of home, though Santiago still missed the familiarity of streets of Flores lined with terraced houses, the streets he knew like the back of his hand with all its twists and turns. For now, Greece filled the longing in his heart by the slightest. He pushed aside these thoughts and focused on having a good time, making the memories while it was still possible. 

They made a trip out to an archaeological museum, the small group of them packed onto a stuffy bus. By the time they arrived it was relatively late, the midst of the evening, though the sky remained bright and vermillion. Not hungry yet, they caught the museum at a less busy hour where there weren’t as many tourists aside from them. 

It was peaceful and oddly beautiful with those exhibitions empty and silent. The rooms were draughty and cool, a break from the humidity of the summer. They broke off to explore and Santiago found himself continuing a conversation he was having with Timur on the bus, something about the ancient Greeks. It was a niche topic, something he was largely interested in as a teenager which now struck him with such vividness at the age of thirty-eight. 

At some point, Santiago had pondered over the absurdness that he did not feel as old as he thought he was. The years did pass for sure and perhaps it was the turbulent events of his life that made him unaware of how time was slipping by him. Being new in California, the trial and error of that food truck business, the first time he kissed Juan. Now here he was, kindling a friendship with someone he would have never met had it not been for this job. A younger version of himself wouldn’t be able to comprehend who he was today. From being a boy who would find himself conflicted and entangled in crime to holding a position on an elite force.

And there was an excitement in finding good chemistry with someone that he never expected to become friends with. Years ago he didn’t think he would be talking to anyone outside of the city he lived in. Timur wiped away many preconceived notions Santiago had, whether that be of Russian people or the type of people that would work for Team Rainbow. 

Following the museum, they wandered to a botanical garden nearby and regrouped. Timur naturally gravitated towards Maxim, nudging him as they exchanged quietly in their mother tongue. Though Timur wasn’t the kind of person to leave others behind. He motioned for Santiago to quit slacking and to join their pace in this languid stroll.

Surrounded by all this lush vegetation, a thought passed Santiago’s mind. 

“Why don’t I get a photo of you guys?” He offered, recalling how his colleagues were all taking those gimmicky tourist photos of posing next to monuments and statues. While he didn’t expect those two stoic men to give into this kind of horseplay, he noticed that they often took photos of each other for one another, but never had a photo together. 

“I’d love that,” Timur agreed to it immediately with a grin. He gave Maxim an insistent look and beckoned for him to come over and stand next to him. 

With the backdrop of the garden behind them, the lighting was dim enough to require the flash. It was almost perfect and Santiago raised his camera to capture the shot. In one quick snap, the polaroid came out clean and developed within a few seconds. He studied it for a moment before presenting it to Timur, remembering how they had talked about his brief stint with polaroid photography in his early adulthood.

There was a charm in the way the photos came out, something they agreed upon when they were looking through the first sets of polaroids Santiago took in Greece. 

They were taking a break outside of a restaurant while a few of them went inside to ask if there was enough space to accommodate them. Santiago spotted Timur sitting on a bench, the photograph in his hand and he was studying it, absorbed in his thoughts. It wasn’t anything special, just two men smiling, an arm around each other. Though from what Santiago speculated, it was a little more than that. Their touch always lingered, everything was always a step beyond being platonic.

He approached Timur and sat down next to him, turning his gaze to the restaurant where some of his colleagues were examining the menu while waitresses hurried to push some tables together and get the cutlery distributed.

“I’ve got plenty of film. If you want more photos together, don’t be afraid to let me know,” Santiago spoke up with a warm smile. “It’s important to capture these moments of happiness.”

Timur hummed to acknowledge him and he pocketed the photograph then clasped his hands together as if to stop himself from fidgeting- or producing the polaroid once again to continue looking at it. There was a pause between them where they appeared to be occupied by whatever was going on around them, but in actuality they were consumed by an awareness of the situation.

“We- uh, we’re together,” came Timur’s abrupt confession, his voice tight with awkwardness. It was hard to tell if the redness of his face was from the sunburn or his own embarrassment for blurting something out unprompted. “I’ve always wanted more photos of us, but he doesn’t like it. He’s camera-shy.”

“I know. _Well,_ what I meant was that I was wondering about it,” Santiago admitted then realised it wasn’t the reassuring statement he meant for it to be. He was caught up in the fact that Timur shared this with him, that they felt safe enough to tell each other and this invisible solidarity was oddly touching. 

Brows furrowing, Timur straightened up a little. “Is it obvious?” 

Was their closeness obvious through all these minor gestures? Perhaps not to someone who wouldn’t think twice about it. On the other hand, Santiago was aware of what it was like to love another man, the challenges of trying to be a little more discreet in public but failing to hide the fondness one could have for their lover. 

There was a softness taking hold of Santiago that was not characteristic of him, but something that bloomed out of sympathy for Timur. He understood the concern and nerves surrounding it. In ways, there was a bittersweetness with having this conversation- the thought that they must be discreet with their love solely on the basis that they were two men. The reflex to suppress natural, human behaviours like affection. 

In a better world, this would not even cross their minds, though Santiago found solace that they could at least reassure one another of any insecurities.

“I can tell you two care greatly for one another, that’s all.” 

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter is [@CompoundZ8](https://twitter.com/CompoundZ8)  
> My Tumblr is [erc-7](https://erc-7.tumblr.com)


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